It's The End Of the World As We Know It...And I Feel Fine

It's been 24 hours since I returned from 'Black Friday' shopping.  It's the first year shopping started earlier than Friday.  There were pros and cons.  For me, the night owl, late night shopping is a huge plus as opposed to trying to drag myself out of bed in the wee hours of the morning.  Unfortunately, that was the case with lots of individuals.  I'm sure the stores made bank but I felt compassion for the employees that were torn away from their families on Thanksgiving to serve complaining, irrational, and impatient people who got to be with their families.
I have three situations I want to comment on:1.  New Obstacles.2.  A Change of Heart.3.  The Apocalypse.

1.  Holy teenagers or A.K.A...space occupiers.  The problem with shopping at night is the youngin's haven't been to bed yet.  At least at 4 a.m. the youth are all snug in their beds and too lazy to be up.  The mall was horrendous.  Dodging the teenagers was adding a whole other obstacle to the mix.  Many seemed to have a confused, vulnerable virgin look in their eye, you knew it was their first 'Black Friday' experience. They tried walking around doing what others were doing.  Kinda like the teenage protesters, not really knowing why they're yelling and holding signs, only because it's 'cool' since a majority of others are doing it. Their goal wasn't to shop, it was to be out of the house.  Watch and learn amateurs but stay out of the way.

2.  Toys-R-Us opened at 9 p.m.  There wasn't really anything fabulous in the ads, but there was one item that would have saved us 50 dollars.  We arrived several minutes before opening. We knew there would be a line, but I was willing to wait until it all poured in the store to get my item.  I knew they'd have plenty left.  OMGosh, the line was wrapped around the entire store.  When the doors opened, they only allowed 20 people in and would wait 5 minutes before letting another 20 in.  Maddening.  The line grew more than it diminished.  I wanted to pay someone to let us jump in, or save the item for us.  Another couple who arrived the same time we did magically cut the line and were the third shift to be let in the store.  I was SO irritated.  People had waited roughly 10 hours in that line.  I would've been pissed if I'd been the ones behind who'd waited for hours.  But in actuality, I think I was more annoyed that they outsmarted me as they glanced and smirked my way.  I used to be amazing at cutting the line at the school lunch line and lines such as these and now I loathed the ones who did. Back in the day I would've given them a pat on the back with a 'good job, if you have the guts, then you deserve it.' Yesterday, I wanted to literally grab them, expose them and let the lynch mob take care of them... or worse, tattletale (*gasp*) to the manager before she let them in.  What has happened to me?? I've grown a conscience.  Dang that Jason.

3.  The movies and games at Walmart were strategically placed in the produce section. They had it all taped off while they were counting down and giving the crowd the 'keep calm' pep talk.  I delegated that responsibility to Jason for once as I had the pleasure of watching from a distance leaning on the potatoes.  As the 'go-ahead' was given, I saw two amazing sights.  First, I've always wondered if people would become as inconsiderate as they appear in the movies when 'the end' is near and they are stocking up on provisions.  What I saw from a distance gave me a look at how I behaved as one of them in the past.  There was the goal of getting that item that was so important, the consideration of any other human being became the furthest thing from the mind.  People were pushing carts into others while others were being shoved, cussing at employees as if it was their fault that items ran out, body odor and sweat permeating the air, the crazed look in the eyes, and complete and utter chaos.  It wasn't pretty and I became certain at that point of the importance of having a sufficient food storage supply.  Really, it scared me.  And from afar, when you see what people are willing to do to one another to save a few dollars, it's quite sad and depressing and ridiculous.  I'm 99.9% positive the apocalypse could begin at Walmart.  Yet, in all the madness was a beautiful sight, my husband moving as if in slow motion as he spun, juking his way around the craze.  It was like watching a pro NFL player on slow motion replay making the play of the game.  He did it with such grace, sophistication, and humanity...he is the prime example of why we didn't cut in line earlier in the evening.  So while some went to bed last night feeling accomplished because they got everything on their list by whatever means necessary, we went to bed knowing we kept our dignity.Damn that Jason...he'll make a lady out of me yet! 

The Truth Hurts

The day came, and I wasn't expecting it.  I'm sitting at the table while Nathan is doing homework and he says, 'Mom, everyone says the parents bring the presents.'  Me: 'What are you talking about?  (Knowing full well what he is talking about and using the extra time to process the alerts going off).Nathan:  'That parents bring the presents and not Santa!'I FROZE.  I never freeze. I'm rarely caught speechless.  I usually have some way of re-directing this stuff. And yet I sat there and struggled as I said, 'Do your homework and we' ll talk about it later.'I'm struggling because I know in my mind that it's time, but every cell of my heart is fighting it due to a mother trying to defend and hold on to her child's childhood as I see it fading fast.
 We as people have a deep desire to know the truth of things only to realize half the time we wish after knowing the truth that we wouldn't have asked or pursued it in the first place. If I were a betting person, this is exactly one of those instances Nathan will be experiencing later this evening. I know he will be bummed after our talk but I also know he is in 5th grade and I need to be grateful that it's lasted this long.  I did real well of always deflecting the question back at him, 'Well, what do YOU think, is Santa real?'  And he always came back saying he believes.  This year after I pulled the same question he shot right back and demanded, 'I want to know the truth.' For the first time the phrase:  'This is going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt you' finally resonated with me.  Why is the truth going to hurt me?  Because once this talk happens Christmas won't be the same for him or for me. It is yet another slap in the face of realizing how short my time is with them.  Floods of memories are filling my mind of kids in footie pajamas running down the stairs on Christmas morning with eyes big and bright, writing wish lists and mailing letters to Santa, little ones wanting to sit on Santa's lap, little hands making and leaving out cookies and milk.  Part of the magic will dim for a season. Santa, in my children's eyes will become like a Teletubby or Elmo (something cuddly, fake and commercialized) for a few years until they have their own children and resurrect the magic.  
Right now...1. I'm wishing I had about 4 more under the age of 8 to take the pain away.      2. I'm feeling extremely apologetic to my mother for wanting desperately to grow up so fast.  3.  Disturbed that I'm already posting about Christmas.
Wish me luck.  :(   
UPDATE
My conversation went like this:I sat Nathan down on the couch and asked how he would feel if he found out Santa was real.  He smiled and said he would be very happy.  I asked why.  He explained because then he would know he wasn't crazy.  He said he remembers a few years ago closing his eyes for a few seconds and when he opened them there were presents everywhere.  Brynna's been telling him for awhile, 'dude, you just fell asleep.' He swears he didn't.  He really does believe it.
I asked how he would feel if the parents bring the presents.  He said he would still be happy and understand why they would do it but didn't sound quite as happy as scenario number one.I asked what he tells kids at school when they ask if he believes in Santa.  He said I just tell them, 'I don't know.'  His next statement to me was classic:  'It really doesn't matter if Santa is real or not because it's the elves that make the presents anyway.'So precious, innocent, and naive.  I almost cried and laughed at the same time.
I proceeded to tell him, 'Nathan if you want to know the truth, I will tell you right now but I want to tell you something first.  Sometimes not knowing is more fun than actually knowing. There is something about the mystery that makes things intriguing.'  I further explained to him to think of when we read our mystery books together at night; we have so much fun trying to figure out what is going on and what is going to happen.  At the end of the book, it's wonderful to know all the answers but is also a let down because then the mystery is over. The imagination has been filled by all the details by the author that don't match our own.  On the flip side, I also said the truth is also a great blessing to have because then you know exactly what you are dealing with. That clarity can also answer more questions. You don't spend your time wondering.  Again, I said it was his decision to make of knowing the truth of Santa, all he needed to tell me was when he wants that truth. 
He turned to me, hugged me and said, 'Thanks Mom, I think I'll wait awhile longer.'My heart blew out a sigh of relief...for now.LONG LIVE SANTA and childhood.